Campaign Spark of Rebellion: Imperial Twilight | TF vs DE

[The Hand of Freedom]

THE FINAL ASSAULT

Deep within the storm-wracked wastelands of Kuar, a world scarred by ancient battles, the Rebel movement known as The Foundation has established a secret outpost - a final bastion of resistance against the Dark Empire. In just a few short months, The Foundation has infiltrated Imperial strongholds across the Core, striking decisive blows on Prakith, Kampe, and Jerrilek while dismantling the Empire's prison network on Hakassi. Utilizing the chaos of the Mandalorian Neo-Crusader assault on Ithor and Selnesh, they rescued key prisoners and sabotaged critical Imperial infrastructure there, further destabilizing the regime's hold over the Core Worlds. As the Neo-Crusaders drew the Empire's attention to the eastern front, The Foundation seized the opportunity to build up their forces on Kuar and prepare for a final strike.

Now, the time has come for their final, decisive assault. From their hidden base on Kuar, The Foundation's forces will launch a coordinated strike against Tython and Empress Teta, the last major Imperial strongholds within the Deep Core. Victory here will cripple the Empire's influence, forcing their retreat and igniting a wave of rebellion across the Core. More than a battle for territory, this is a war for hearts and minds - to show the oppressed citizens of the Core that The Foundation, not the Galactic Alliance, is the true force of liberation.

On Empress Teta, a long-suppressed revolution is on the verge of erupting into full-scale war. The Foundation will fan the flames of rebellion, deploying soldiers and Jedi to bolster the people's uprising and overthrow the Imperial regime once and for all.

On Tython, the very fabric of the Force has been torn asunder. A rift - a wound in the Force - has destabilized the planet, while the once-holy Jedi temple of Akar Kesh now stands corrupted by the Sith. The Dark Side festers here, stronger than ever. The Foundation's Jedi allies must battle the Sith to reclaim the temple, while others work to purify the tainted waters and heal the rift before it spirals out of control.

If the Foundation succeeds, they will shatter the Empire's dominion and prove to the galaxy that they - not the failing Galactic Alliance - are the true champions of freedom.​

SUGGEST FOR NFUS, FLEETERS AND DOGFIGHTERS

The people of Empress Teta have long simmered under both Mawite and Imperial rule, and it has started to reach boiling point. Though the displaced Senator of the planet had long tried to convince the Alliance to aid his people, yet still they suffered. The Foundation, having heard the murmurs of the people, have decided enough is enough.

Fan the simmering flames of rebellion by coordinating with resistance cells within the city, supplying them with weapons and by aiding in the fight in order to turn the city against the Empire. Jedi may help our troops to lead the charge, inspiring the people and ensuring their fight does not collapse under the inevitable Imperial retaliation. But be wary! Our assaults on the neighbouring strongholds would have ensured improved Imperial security on Empress Teta. The fight will not be an easy one.​

SUGGEST FOR JEDI, SITH AND OTHER FUS

Tython is now a nexus of darkness. The once-holy Jedi temple of Akar Kesh has been defiled by the Sith and the Curch of the Dark Side, and the rift in the Force threatens the very fabric of the planet, bleeding Darkness all around it, warping reality.

The Foundation’s Jedi must split their efforts - some must face the Sith and the cultists of the Dark Side in direct combat to reclaim the temple, while others must attempt to purify the sacred waters tainted by the Dark Ritual created from the murder of Pietro Demici and mend the Force itself torn apart by Darth Solipsis before the Darkness consumes the planet entirely, severing the Jedi’s ties to their ancient world for good. But this will not be an easy feat. The corruption from the Dark Side runs deep and the Empire’s Dark Siders maintain it heavily while sitting squarely in the now-corrupted ancient Temple. Guard yourselves well against the onslaught that the Darkness and its servants will wreak upon you. ​

OPEN TO ALL

Whatever floats your boat chief. Just keep it relevant to the thread.​

----

With the fate of the Core and the Force itself hanging in the balance, the Foundation’s final battle has begun. Victory here will mean the fall of the Empire within the Core - failure will doom the galaxy to its shadow.

Spoiler: OOC Note

Open to Jedi, Rebels, Smugglers, Sith, Imperials, Neo-Crusaders etc. See OOC Thread
DE & Foundation Faction Staff reserve the right to expel troublemakers. Please keep things nice and clean, malice free and story driven.
-----

 

[Bido Roz’lyn]

Ship: X-wing


Squad mates:
Evest Neel (CO) | Trent Perris | Elsabetta Perris | Cuan Kunn (XO) | Daraho Arvyd | Len Vert | Zyra



​

---

This took some getting used to.

She was no stranger to combat. That was a fact. And she had spent more time in a cockpit than most beings could fathom. But joining the Foundation as a Danger Squadron pilot was showing her just how much she still hadn't experienced in her long life.

For starters, the fighter she was flying felt very different from anything she had ever flown before. She had already read the manual, and prepared herself mentally, but it was still jarring to get used to. All of the fighters she had ever flown before had been entirely mechanical in nature, and there was a sense of… mechanism to the way they handled. The NC-1000, however, sported organic proteins for its circuitry and some kind of organic nervous system for the computational systems. It handled just fine, but something about it felt more… alive, than mechanical about the way it handled

She suspected that the feeling would pass as soon as she was shot at.

In addition to the alien-feeling fighter she was flying, she was also getting her head around her squad mates. As a Dornean, she was considered a young woman at the age of 120. The age difference between her and her non-Dornean colleagues was a little weird for her, and she worried about her ability to fit in. Len Vert , who was closest to her in age had grandparents that were younger than her, and he had the callsign "Gramps". She wasn't jealous or anything, but it was so weird to see someone so young being regarded as an elder. Incidentally, she couldn't help but feel on the outside. Normally, squadron leaders would do team building exercises to plug these kinds of gaps, but Evest Neel simply didn't have enough time. She had joined at a bad time and they had rushed her into this cockpit for this battle.

She had plenty of experience flying against younger races, and she had no problem respecting their skills. So, she resolved to do what she did best, and earn her place in the squadron. Today.

 

[Darth Moskvin]

Imperial Twilight

"Horrors, I believe, should be original--the use of common myths and legends being a weakening influence."
- H.P. Lovecraft -
​

Location: Tython (Temple) - Obj. 2
Gear: In Sig
Tags: Tasia Palpatine
​

O'Death​

The temple was steeped in the Dark Side, where echoes of long and forgotten dead Jedi moaned their protests to no prevail. Ghosts that no longer served a purpose in the world of the living, ghosts that found themselves chained to the Temple for eternal suffering, and ghosts who knelt with hands in weeping faces, the plasma tears of failure flooding their once sacred sanctuary. Like all things the Jedi touched, ended in blundering excuses from a mockery of their dogmatic teachings. The Jedi should have remained extinct.

Throughout the numerous rooms of the Temple, sigils of the Jedi laid in ruin, scratched and etched upon by the followers of the Dark Side, a notion to eradicate the history of the defunct Jedi Order. In place of those ancient symbols, now beheld the signs of the Sith darting along the halls leading in serpentine fashion to each unholy room, like a novel written by the keepers of Sith Magik.

It was here in this crumbling construct of Jedi engineering, that I stood with a slumping figure in my cold, murderous embrace in the main sacrarium where a blackened ciborium stood vigilant over a once sacred altar where Jedi statesmen spoke on the nature of their flawed philosophies, drained of the Anima that once coursed through those living purple veins. My dead, golden vampiric eyes looked pass the glassy, lamented eyes of my meal into the young maiden's fleeting soul, wondering what life she would have had if she didn't cross my path? Now, like so many before her, she was just another corpse in the long list of those having the misfortune of meeting Lady Death.

Unceremoniously, I released that husk from my grip, wiping the crimson fluid from my lips, waiting for my next kill to scrabble themselves to my web.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

Right back what is wrong…
Tython
What was once “The Gnarls”

The last time that he was here, he held back. He had to.

Today? Not happening.

Tython was… well… it was “sacred” to the lore and the history of the Jedi. Now? Now it was a defiled, desecrated land that needed to be cleansed outright, and that started with what was once the Jedi Temple at Akar Kesh. It did not matter who this was for, the Foundation, the Jedi, this was to send a message that their time on this planet was borrowed, and it was time to collect. He would cleanse this land, starting with the once-sacred Jedi Temple at Akar Kesh. This act would send a clear message: their time on this planet was over.

This was not an all out assault, like the New Jedi Order would run, of course they had the resources, not to mention the numbers, it made sense. In truth, he was surprised that they were not here. Of course considering all of the talk that went on back on Crait, it truly was not surprising. There was a time to disagree, and there was a time to put disagreements aside for the greater good. This was one of those times, but he held no sway over that, he was here because simply… well…

I have to look at myself in the mirror.

The others can bicker, he was here to do the right thing, and that was to help push the Sith off of Tython once and for all.

He was not far away from an anti-aircraft cannon. They had no idea he was there, of course Caltin was masking his aura, just in case.

Time to go to work.

TAGS Darth Imperius TAGS
[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Kalah Redra]

STORM
ORBIT | EMPRESS TETA
ALLIES: Zev Tantor | Suhara Villow | Evest Neel | Elsabetta Perris | Bido Roz’lyn | Trent Perris | Cuan Kunn | Daraho Arvyd | Len Vert | Zyra | TF
ENEMIES: Marlon Sularen | Max Sinn | DE
ENGAGING: Marlon Sularen
PERSONAL GEAR: In bio

EMPIRE​

Active Foundation Fleet Active flaghsip: FNV Commissioner (100/100) 4x Consular II-Class Frigates FNV Pioneer (100/100) FNV Nexus (100/100) FNV Intrepid (100/100) FNV Destiny (100/100) 4x Marauder II-Class Attack Corvette FNV Hellhound (100/100) FNV Hunter (100/100) FNV Helios (100/100) FNV Frenzy (100/100) FNV Omen (100/100) Reserve Foundation Fleet hidden a small jump away Led by Zev Tantor Flaghsip: FNV Silver City (100/100) 1x Organa-Class Heavy Cruiser FNV Bombad (100/100) 1x Nebulon Z Medical Frigate FNV Discovery (100/100) 3x Torpedo Frigate FNV Ramian (100/100) FNV Raspian (100/100) FNV Dastardly (100/100) 1x Scion-Class Escort Carrier FNV Ethereal (100/100) 1x Brahma Corsair Cutter FNV Covenant (100/100) Spoiler: Actions Deployed some extra troop-shuttles to the surface as well as Danger Squadron to accompany them - anyone from Foundation that needs to bum a ride on them, can. Shields and comms are constantly cycling Ordered the Intrepid and Destiny to remain behind the Commissioner while all other frigates act as proper defensive escorts in front of it. The Corvettes are ordered to cover the immediate flanks of the cruiser. Hailed Zev Tantor and told him to keep his hyperdrives hot for a quick jump to whatever coordinates are provided. She also wants him to ready a medical ship for any wounded or even normal civilians that are not able to join in the uprising. Hailed Suhara Villow and asked that she covers their flank and do hit and runs from a different angle. Kalah told her that if evasive action is needed, they can take it. Also told the Major that they are to weaken and scatter the Imperial fleet enough that when Tantor arrives, he can finish them off. Have fun flying circles around the Imperial fleet. Holding position for now. Kalah wishes to see what the Imperial Fleet does first before taking action.

"Well this is just like Ithor, isn't it?"

Captain Zan's words broke the silence on the bridge as they all observed the combined Imperial fleet in the orbit of Empress Teta. They were, once again, dwarfed by the devastating monsters of the Empire.
"Not quite, Captain. This time, we have the added expertise of fellow Naval officers." clipped Kalah as she turned away from the viewport.
"Of course, Ma'am. But they still outsize and outgun us." the Falleen countered.
"And yet we still made them look ridiculous on Ithor by just being able to move. Now stop your panicking." the Zygerrian barked before turning her green eyes on the rest of the bridge.

"Deploy shuttles and notify Danger Squadron it's their time to shine - our troops down there will need the air support." she started her orders and watched as fingers flew across panels to make it happen. "Keep cycling shields and comms. Have all ships prime weapons, but hold fire. Everyone is to keep their hyperdrives ready. Rally the frigates and corvettes. We'll need to scatter that Imperial fleet. Keep the Intrepid and Destiny behind us. The rest will act as shields. Corvettes on flanks." she continued.

As the ships maneuvered themselves as instructed, Kalah moved toward the holotable.
"Get me Tantorr. I need a word." she said and waited for Jones to get hold of Zev Tantor .
"Communication ready, Ma'am. Throwing him on the table now." said Jones from the comms panel.
"Captain Tantor, I trust all your ships are in formation." she greeted the veteran's holo-figure without much preamble. "I will need you to be completely ready to jump to whatever coordinates I'll patch through, as we'll need you here in a heartbeat when the time comes, so I hope your hyperdrives have been serviced. And please keep a ship at the ready to receive civilians that are unable to fight. They'll be sent skyward for safekeeping. Keep in mind, some of them may be injured and will need medical attention." she then got into it.

She awaited his reply was ready to discuss anything else he might need.
"Thank you, Captain. May the Force be with you." she then said before ringing off. Looking over her shoulder, she looked over her shoulder at Jones. "Get me into contact with Major Suhara Villow . I need her fleet in formation stat." she said before looking back at the table and waited.
"Communication ready. Sending her to the table." came Jones' eventual reply.

Kalah's feline eyes regarded the hardy woman's holo-figure for a second. "Major Villow, we are glad to have your fleet with us." she started. "I'll be maneuvering around the main Imperial Fleet, but I'll need your ships to flank them as well. Have your shields at full strength and weapons ready. Keep to hit and runs, Major. I'm keeping Tantor back for now, so we can't afford getting hit by the big guns on those wedges in the meantime. We need to weaken and scatter them enough for when Tantor arrives, he can finish them off." she then went on. "There will be heavy resistance from the Imperials, Major. If you need to take evasive action, do it. As long as you have our flank, I'm not too held up on formations. Fly circles around the Imperials and hit them from all sides." Kalah added.

Eventually, she ended the call with another "May the Force be with you, Major." before returning to the full bridge.

"Action orders, Ma'am?" asked the Falleen Captain.
Kalah narrowed her eyes at the enemy fleet, ears flattening against her head.
"Have everyone hold position for now, including Tantor and Villow, but keep shields at full power. I don't want to play our hands too soon. Let's see what they do first. Sularen's not the same as the blubbering fool we faced on Ithor. He actually knows the bow from the stern." she finally said.

She'd let him make the first move. The Zygerrian Admiral was curious to see how he would react.

 

[Darth Centax]

Location: Front and Center, on the Temple Steps
Goal: NON SHALL PASS.
Tag: Talsin Lota
Background NPCs: Shield Wall Codebearers | The Forsaken Host

Carved from a long, bloody Kethenite history, this was another of many battles on Tython. Standing upon the temple steps like he owned them. The One Sith-aligned Maw had stood here before under many of Keth's apprentices, sometimes to corrupt, sometimes to destroy, and sometimes to seed its core with an AI that still devoured and replicated within.

But that was Keth, not Kylath. The old relic could have his tombs; the living claimed the glory. Blood oaths bound some of their number to the temple steps, barring the way. A shame it wasn't Alliance scum under his heel; maybe there would be someone worth killing, his crushgaunts tensed.

First stood the Malformed forsaken host, a golden legion. The forsaken of many species, twisted, unloved, or unnatural, now gods in their own right. Serpentis had adorned them in golden, rune-carved durasteel, their brutal melee weaponry radiating perverse light. They held spiked banners high, shock troops to shield the Imperial forces behind. A perfect Kethenite manipulation, forcing heroes to cut down the broken.

Behind them, the Code Bearers hand picked from the 77th held the Sith Code upon their Oath shields, wielding sonic explosive-tipped javelins, force pikes, swords, and rifles. Black upon black, locked in formation in a shield wall. And beyond them, Centax stood in the doorway itself.

Drums began to beat. At the first sign of the enemy, Kylath would give the order for a terrifying charge. The malformed host swayed ready, roaring and cheering, a golden forsaken legion, in the blinding light of Serpentis 's madness. Somewhere in the background, Keth was pleased.

"Come and die, then." Kylath placed his helmet on, sealing the Khan-OSK. Coruscant had yet to receive his vengeance. The Kethenites still worked this world, and if they wanted to remove them, they would have to kill him first. His focus deepened, and the gravity of the moment began to set in.

Gear/OOC

Spoiler

OOC: As usual all the love for you all. Here's to a fun thread
NPCs Background only feel free to assume hits.

Armor: Khan-OSK | Crushgaunts (Permanent)
Weapon: Vibro-lance (Right Hand)
Shield: Runic Oath Shield (Left Arm)
Thrown: SCJ Deadline-B x5/5 (Back)
MK2 Jack Knife (Hip)
Lightsaber (Belt)
WP-19 Incendiary Grenade x 5/5 (Belt)

 

[Jonyna Si]

Indirect Tag: Marlon Sularen
Engaging: Joseph Torson ​

Jonyna had kept her distance from the Foundation. As Kahlil Noble had said, it wasn't the council's place to dictate how all jedi followed the code. Yet, she always found a kindred spirit in rebel forces such as them.

But she couldn't be a part of it. Her station was a place she had strived to reach since she was a kitten, and she wasn't keen to give it up to go be a freedom fighter once more.

The Alliance had done it's best to push the DE out of the core.

Now it was time to do it the dirty way.

The cathar master had her company refit a Tie fighter from Coruscant, a crashed DE fighter that had fallen into the depths of the city, with all the latest tech. Anything that would allow her to slip through.

<This is INZ Purifier, hailing incoming Tie. We don't have you on the registry, please respond.>

The tie screamed forward. Inside, Jonyna wasn't saying a word. In her lap, her astromech Dice was spewing statistics of this to her. 5%. 3%. He was ecstatic at the possibility, and yet all Jonyna could focus on was the landing.

The hard landing.

Into one of the ship's hangers, the tie rammed into, breaking up as Jonyna used the Force to throw open the cockpit hatch, and propel herself out as the Tie disintegrated into the wall of the hanger.

She was here to honor the tradition of Tenacity Squad.

Bring down a star destroyer from within.

 

[Darth Kizash]

Kizash sat motionless in the desecrated halls of Akar Kesh, his legs folded beneath him, hands resting loosely on his knees. The air was thick with the stench of decay, the walls blackened by the corruption that had bled into the very foundation of the temple. Darkness coiled around him like a living thing, whispering, seething, pressing into his skin like an unseen weight. It was intoxicating.

He inhaled slowly, deeply. Each breath was a blade, slicing through his lungs with the raw edge of the Dark Side’s power. Pain. Not a sensation, not a weakness—his strength, his constant. He welcomed it, let it burrow into his bones, let it feed and ground him. The agony of every wound he had suffered, every strike that had landed, every bone broken and reset—they were memories written into his flesh, his own scripture of survival and his being was its living word manifest.

Outwardly, he had the image of serenity, his face composed, his breathing even. But inside? Inside, he was a tremor, a violent, thrashing force of will and hatred barely contained within the fragile shell of flesh. The scars of his past, the torment of his youth, the relentless hunger to prove them all wrong—it all churned beneath the surface like magma waiting to erupt. The flow knew no end.

Then the visions came.
A sudden, wrenching pull in the Force.
Flashes of battles.

Lightsabers clashing in the darkened ruins of the temple, sparks flying like dying stars. Screams, raw and primal, echoing through corridors that had once hummed with peace. He saw Jedi fighting desperately, their movements blurred, their faces indistinct, but their pain—oh, he felt their pain. The temple quaking, stone crumbling, shadows writhing along the walls like starving beasts. A figure stood at the center of it all, robed in darkness, their presence a wound in the Force itself. Their words were lost, but their intent was clear: oblivion.

Then, another flash—his own hands, bloodied, trembling. And finally, a moment of clarity. A single truth, undeniable and absolute:

He would endure. The vision faded, leaving him alone once more in the hollowed remains of what had once been sacred ground. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. Something or someone was coming. He opened his eyes, the dark irises dead in spirit, sad and yet fiery with renewed purpose. With a deliberate, almost lazy motion, he unfolded his legs and rose to his feet. The old bones of the temple groaned beneath him as if recognizing the corruption that had taken root in its foundation. He rolled his shoulders, the familiar pop of his joints resetting echoing through the chamber. His cloak, tattered and heavy with the weight of past wounds, draped around him as he adjusted it, pulling it tighter over his frame.

The dim, flickering light of the corrupted temple cast long shadows along the cracked stone walls, and Kizash stepped into them as if they were an extension of himself. The darkness did not resist him—it welcomed him. It swallowed him whole, twisting around his form until he was no more.

 

[Thal Mantis]

​

Equipment: Battle Armor, Lightsaber, Utility Belt
Allies: Foundation
Enemies: Empire

Thal Mantis.

Son of the Wolf.
​

Pariah.​

​

Slave.

​

Fighter.

Forgotten.

Abandoned.

Claimed.

Owned.

Bought.

Sold.
​

Troubled.

Misled.

Hurt.

Gladiator.

Warrior.

Survivor.
Killer.

Deathless.
​

Jedi.

​

Of all the things Thal Mantis was-

Jedi was chief among them. Troubled young man, he might have been- a lifetime of slavery, of fighting, of death and murder. The Deathless had earned his name, quite well. He was without equal in the arena, and the gladiator pits at the Red Tower were washed in the blood of those that stood against him. His father abandoned him- possibly without even knowing he ever existed.

Yet, he persisted.

When the Silver Jedi fell, he persisted.

When the Alliance and the New Jedi Order failed him, he persisted.

He sought revenge- he sought justice, retribution. And he was chastised, lamented for it. So be it. But he knew what Jedi were made to do. It was not to sit in temples, hold office, hold conference and confide in each other's squabbles and petty relationships. Jedi were made to act, to protect, to defend-

To uphold.

Thal waited patiently on the steps, his armor polished, clean, marked, but not broken. They would come. He would stand. He would fight. He had to. There was no other option, no other way. He marched up the stairs to the temple, flanked by other Jedi and compatriots. He was taking a stand. He was one of the first to activate his blade, the Sith Warriors defending and surrounding the temple taking notice and repeating the action. He rolled the blade around his body, taking a stance, a brief pause.

Before, he let out a scream- and charged.

He ran forward, shoulder-checking one of the Sith at the temple right into a wall, pivoting and driving his open palm into her mask. He followed up by bisecting her with his lightsaber, turning and screaming. Thal Mantis had come. Thal Mantis was not going to relent, not going to give up. The Sith fell here. There was no other option.

​

​

 

[Connel Vanagor]

Taking back what is ours!
Annunaki Mk III
Headed to Tython

Connel Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel,

[“Annunaki” this is “Celestial City” Flight Control. You’re clear to jump.]

[Code Clear, Good Hunting!]

As the stealth ship “Annunaki” disengaged from its berth in the Heavy Carrier “Celestial City”, the ship, carrying Omega Squad, Jed Knight and New Jedi Order Council Member @Cora Von Ascania, and Jedi Shadow Connel Vanagor jumped to lightspeed. Their destination, the southern pole of Tython to which they would enter the atmosphere, utilizing the natural magnetic interference of the planet to mask their signature and fly below sensors.

Weapons Check.

As the members of Omega Squad were checking their gear, “Gabriel” was working “double duty” and checking both his, and “Azrael’s” as the team’s Demo Expert. Azrael could normally check his own, but he was busy making shaped charge after shaped charge. These were normally easy enough to make, but these were special. They were small enough to fit two per duffel bag that each team member would sling over their shoulders (Azrael carrying a pack full of them) but the design was unique.

They were normal shaped charges (without the detonators which would be inserted by Azrael when placed) but durasteel “sheets” were cut and curved to fit around one side of the explosive extending their curvature a few inches outward. This would act to “direct” the explosive force into the side not covered by metal. The added force would not necessarily cause a catastrophic destruction, but more “surgical”. They may not destroy an entire structure, but would have a better result in disabling what they wanted to disable.

Everyone patted their shoulders, to “clear” themselves, and then checked each other, patting shoulders to “clear” each other. When everyone was clear, and their gear was fine, the team Sniper Sariel looked up from his normal state of anger.

Question.

Ask.

I don’t mean this disrespectfully at all. However, do we really need another Jedi with us?

Oh COME ON!

Seriously?!

Don’t get it twisted. She’s got skills, we all know this. I’m glad she’s here. I’m talking about “chemistry”. Is all

Don’t worry, she’s fine with babysitting you. The quick witted quip brought genuine laughter from everyone, even Sariel.

I set myself up for that, didn’t I? Look, Master Jedi. I didn’t mean disrespect… I’ve seen too many team members fall due to chemistry issues… it was never anything personal, ma’am.

Drop it and get ready or briefing.

As the team readied themselves and listened to their objectives, Connel turned to talk to Cora as he handed her one of the “jump packs” they would be using.

I know him well enough to know he really didn’t mean it like it sounded, the dufus just doesn’t have a filter. They’re so used to being dropped in quietly, on their own and having to find their own way out. He chuckled rather sardonically. They’re “Shadows” but without the Force.

Strapping himself into the pack, not only to secure himself, but in a manner of showing the Knight in case she didn’t know herself, he continued. It’s your call, but they’re… we’re going in to blow (censored) up. Not looking to do anything that’s going to wreak havoc with Force Storms and whatever… or at least that is what my father was blaring about when I told him, but to take out defenses and so on. Basically to keep them chasing after shadows, no pun intended, maybe at the same time clear and secure areas for purification?

Corazona von Ascania • TAGS​

Omega Squad Gear/Armor

-​

and Loadouts

 

[Marlon Sularen]

S P A R K_O F_R E B E L L I O N - I M P E R I A L_T W I L I G H T
Objective I : Freedom Fire

DARK EMPIRE
EMPRESS TETA, DEEP CORE

Spoiler: Sularen's Fleet

THE FIRST FLEET - WARFLEET ADDITION
Main Fleet : INV Purifier [100|100] INV Judicator [100|100] INV Ironclad [100|100] INV Warhammer [100|100]
Starfighter Compliment : TIE/haB Brute TIE/IAx Advanced Interceptor TIE/HB Bruiser [Undeployed] GAT-36 Imperial Blastboat [Undeployed] TIE/DT Destroyer

From the bridge of the INV Purifier, Lord-Regent Marlon Sularen observed the Rebel Fleet gather above Empress Teta ready to confront their Imperial Fleet. These Deep Core Rebels had grown bolder, with reports that in addition to the attacks within the Kampe Sector, they had been present at Ithor and Selnash when the Mandalorian had attacked and now where here at Empress Teta at the head of another uprising against Imperial Rule. It was somewhat overwhelming for Sularen, to be faced with attack after attack, unable to properly respond to these threats keeping the Empire on the Defensive. Regardless they would still fight as always and today, he was hoping to demonstrate to these Rebels the true might of the Imperial Fleet.

"Sir, we've just finished the scan on the Rebel Fleet" Rackham informed him, standing right beside the Lord-Regent who remained seated within his command chair on the bridge as usual. "What did you find?" Sularen inquired. "They're the same Fleet that appeared at Ithor. The one that belonged to this so-called Foundation." Rackham answered as he went through the information displayed on his data pad. "Interesting. I'm surprised these Rebels have managed to muster up a fleet. We'll have to investigate who is supplying them and deal with them accordingly as soon as possible, before these bastards do further damage to the Empire." Sularen pointed out.

"Back to the matter of the ongoing battle, do we have any sort of activity from the enemy fleet?" Sularen inquired. "They're holding position for now, although it seems they have deployed some Shuttles to the surface, most likely to provide further reinforcements to the insurgent rebels in Cinnagar." Rackham answered. "Send in a few Interceptor Squadrons to shoot them down. Then have the rest of our starfighters launch a screen around our ships." Sularen ordered. "And the rest of the Fleet?" Rackham asked. "Maintain our current position. I doubt this is the entire Rebel Fleet, considering our ships are more powerful, more durable and have more starfighters at our disposal. For them to be staring down at us with such a small force there has to be additional Rebels elsewhere waiting to pounce on us."

"So we're just going to wait for them to attack first?" Rackham inquired. "That would be preferable yes. But i'd rather hold my position until Admiral Sinn shows up before making any move." Sularen responded. As both Sularen and Rackham stared down the battlefield, the latter soon received a notification from his datapad once more. "Hum, it appears that we've been boarded." Rackham said. Sularen sighed in frustration as these constant boarding parties were starting to annoy him. "Ugh, again? Why the fuck do these guys keep on boarding my Ship every fucking battle." the Lord-Regent said. "Captain Torson is present with detachment of the Red Right Hand, i can dispatch them to intercept the intruder." Rackham pointed out. Sularen simply waved his hand in a dismissive way before offering a response. "Just send them away, i just hope this isn't a Jedi again. I especially hate it when those assholes board my ship." the Lord-Regent said.

Turning his attention back to the Rebel Fleet in front of him, the Lord-Regent adjusted his seating position within his command chair, waiting for his enemy to make the next move. "Alright, you Rebel Scum. Your move." he muttered out.

Spoiler: After Action Report

• The Imperial Fleet maintains it's position in orbit of Empress Teta
• Five Squadrons of TIE Advanced Interceptors are sent to intercept the Shuttles deployed by the Foundation Fleet
• The Rest of the Starfighters and Interceptors of the Fleet move forth to establish a screen around all Imperial Warships

Tags [DE] | Max Sinn | Van Trask | Electra-12
Tags [Foundation] | Kalah Redra | Zev Tantor | Suhara Villow | Evest Neel | Elsabetta Perris | Bido Roz’lyn | Trent Perris | Cuan Kunn | Daraho Arvyd | Len Vert | Zyra ​

 

[Onrai]

Entrance of Akar Kesh
Tags: Darth Moskvin Caltin Vanagor Darth Centax Darth Kizash Darth Imperius Thal Mantis Connel Vanagor
The shadowed form of Onrai stood at the front of Akar Kesh in a damnable fury, Mere months prior, she had exerted a tremendous amount of effort to save the temple from the pernicious influence of the Galactic Alliance. At her own expense for Solipsis, she had rebuilt the temple, a perfect sanctum for the sacrifice of Pietro Demici that had perverted the Force Nexus of the temple and shifted the world of Tython towards a darker nature.

And here she was as a distraction, her efforts wasted at the hands of those above her in the Imperial hierarchy.

-

The Old City
Onrai hurriedly motioned as smaller vehicles, some of them carrying trailing hoversleds on which countless valued artifacts and other facets of value were carried. The temple was a red herring - everything small enough to transport without requiring a bulk freighter was currently being sent through the active hypergate in the Old City, returned to working service courtesy of the tunnel transmitted to it from Ord Mantell. The hypergate prototype that Onrai had developed, and had showcased to Derix Tirall , allowed transit between the two worlds, a way to get past the inevitable blockade she knew the Galactic Alliance would attempt to squeeze on Tython once the retreat was formally called. This was a preemption, and the fact that Imperial worlds were transiting through her world was but a happy coincidence. The stakes now were only a Force Nexus.

-

Interior of Akar Kesh
Onrai looked towards the main hall of the temple, where abominable practices had been performed. She waited patiently - aside from both coordinating the transfer of goods out of the Imperial-controlled sites and guarding the temple's main entrance, she was located within the depths of the temple, directly next to the pool where the Force Nexus was located. This manifestation of Onrai would not stop, would not wait, and would continue to defend the Force Nexus against everyone who penetrated into the temple, even once the rest of the defenders had either fled or been killed. Silently she stared at the pool and practically spat, loathing the fact that a powerful source of Force energy would fall back into the hands of the enemy.

She was going to make them work for it.

-

Entrance of Akar Kesh
"Alright." She said, finally having shunted enough of her frustration across her various manifestations. "We fight. We kill. They die until you die. If you can somehow escape when the time comes, do so. The hypergate will be a viable exit for as long as someone's here. Let's do what we came here to do."

The defensive perimeter around the temple armed up and prepared to engage the onslaught of hostile Foundation attackers.

 

[Solidor Slane]

​

​

| Location | Akar Kesh, Tython​

| Objective | Purify the Corruption​

​

Worn eyes swept over what remained of the corrupted temple as Solidor arrived with a host of other Jedi and soldiers. Such a tragedy for him to see how far Tython had fallen since he had visited it in his youth, so much that he hardly believed he was on the planet that the Jedi once held so dearly. How had such rot and disease been allowed to fester for so long, so profoundly corrupted that its very existence defied all reason? Troubling and dark times indeed it seemed, but perhaps that was the very reason why the Force deemed it time for him to return to the Galaxy, to help ease its suffering and mend its wounds. By whatever means necessary.​

​

Solidor seemed to wince as he stepped off the transport as it arrived, gripping his cane tightly in one hand while the other raised to his face. His eyes were shut as the darkness and anguish that surrounded the temple assaulted his senses and thoughts. His wrinkled features scrunched briefly before they smoothed out as he pushed darkness out, opening his eyes as his gaze fell upon the temple. ​

​

The Foundation had already dispatched several Jedi and an amalgamation of troops to clear a path, Solidor was simply there to do his best to heal the scars left and purify its sacred waters. With the help of the others, there was hope that they would at the very least restore some balance to this once great temple and its world.​

​

The quiet tap of his cane against rock echoed as he hobbled slowly, making his way through a ruined section of the temple wall to enter Akar Kesh. What dangers lurked in the darkness he did not know, but the Force would guide him as it always had.​

​

 

[Tasia Palpatine]

OBJECTIVE 2 - TEMPLE OF TYTHON​

​

Wielding Palpatine's Saber, hardened Kiffar Blade, Gungan slingshot, hunters gear.

Tasia had never visited the Temple on Tython, not in its heyday and not in its desecrated state, it was a foul place now and the darkness hung to the air like cobwebs tray sought to cling to the skin of the young Knight. Her saber in her hand however felt more familiar with the darkness around it and she felt it's pull towards battle. Judging by the absolute carnage about, it would likely taste battle soon, but it did not get to decide, she would not run forward seeking doom and glory, she was calculated, a hunter that padded silently through the gore tainted halls until she came upon the man sanctarium where she could see a figure over one of the altars. Outwardly feminine but much more monstrous, the form of Darth Moskvin held a victim aloft before casting it down like a withered husk. Tasia felt anger building within her, but she maintained her composure, wanting to only utilise her passion when she decided, that was what made her a Jedi.

"You are in the wrong place, creature, the dungeons are yonder." she called out, gesturing with her saber as its blade ignited with its orange hum. She pointed the blade towards Moskvin to allow the Sith the respect of observing its foe. "This place is far greater than your petty daubings could hope to fully desecrate. I suggest you leave." She spoke calmly and clearly, doing everything not to betray the not negligible amount of fear that she felt, to feel no fear was a mistake, but to show fear to ones enemy was a mistake even greater.

 

[Sid Berik]

​

Equipment: Armor l Rifle l Other Typical Commando stuff
Objective: Neutralize Enemy Combatant Cells

EMPRESS TETA

FOR THE EMPIRE
​

"Quiet feet, quiet feet." Sid said, leading the platoons of Stormtroopers to the several safehouses. They were executing six seek-and-destroy missions at once. The rebels had been supplied weapons for a few days now, and had stashed them and other equipment across the city. On this black alone, there were four, the next, two.

The Foundation and other groups had seen to it that the Empire would struggle here. They however, lacked resolve, lacked organization, discipline. Sid stood tall, turning his head. The other Commandos, leading another squad of regular Stormtroopers, gave a thumbs up. Hit-time. Flashes of imagery and telemetry and confirmation flashed across his HUD.

He gave a nod, and the last man in the stack walked up to the door, door-charge in hand. Sid was third in the stack, the first man holding a shield, the second priming a grenade. There was strict orders: no prisoners, no intelligence at the forefront. Kill, destroy, restore. Intelligence and prisoners could come later.

Sid took a deep breath, nodded, and heard the clicker behind him.

Clack-clack-clack.

The explosion happened so quickly, throwing the doors inward. The symphony of explosions and the flurry of troops was instantaneous. The second trooper in the stack tossed the grenades inside, a loud puff of explosions ripping through the area. Sid followed in, his rifle raised up, sighting in at a rebel reaching for a shotgun behind her. She was screaming in fear, begging for her life.

As soon as she made the move for the weapon however, she was a combatant, she was an enemy, and she was dead. Sid pivoted on his heel, firing at another one in another half second. He dropped the man quickly. There was a brief exchange of gunfire every which way but so far- the Empire had succeeded in hitting some of the safehouses they uncovered. Some.

There were plenty more, and there were plenty more rebels and ne'er-do-wells on the planet. Sid stepped out into the street as the Troopers cleared the building, looking above. Two TIE fighters escorted a gunship overhead. He smiled beneath his mask.

"Long live the Empire." He said to himself, enamored with the vulgar display of power he had both participated in and witnessed.

​

 

[Brent Warnel]

Empress Teta. An ecumenopolis. After Brent's recent endeavors to Coruscant, he received word, while still in this region of space, of an uprising in this sector from The Foundation. Brent had no real reason to risk his neck for these people after their antics on Kashyyyk. But, after their help on Ithor, it made sense to ally with them and weaken the Empire until their usefulness was no longer apparent. It also showed him that The Foundation was similar in a way to the Mandalorians in that they had their own honor, and he could respect that. Where their goals aligned, he could use it to the Crusade's advantage, for now.

Brent was not here to rally support for the rebels on this planet and help them push the Dark Empire's troops out, however, he would not risk his life for such a weak cause. He was here for the opportunity to destroy high-ranking Dark Empire leaders, whether they were force users or not, and for another opportunity.

The Mining Guilds. There were several Mining Guilds headquartered on this planet, and with the oncoming rebellion through the streets, he would use this chance to break into these offices and allocate whatever he could for the Crusade.

The Foundation had helped smuggle him and Vreegan Fett onto this planet. Now, they were in one of the safehouses spread throughout this portion of the city, with several dozen rebel fighters. Brent listened as the leader of this particular rebel cell called for blood.

"It is time! Brothers! Sisters! Tonight, we unleash onto them," an arm snapped out from the Rebel leader, jabbing his finger toward the wall next to him, indicating the Dark Empire and its troops, which so heavily patrolled this area, "What they have wrought onto us for years! The Foundation has come, and on this night! Tonight! They have given us a purpose. Come, my brothers and sisters, let loose your fiery anger; tear down this tyrannical Empire!"

A cheer rose from the crowd, and the Rebel leader beckoned with his arm toward the entrance. The crowd began to surge toward the exit, ready to deal death to the Empire's troopers in the streets.

"They won't make it very far," Brent said plainly to Vreegan. "Regardless, the mining guild headquarters is but a block away. These rebels will give us the cover we need. Inside," Brent held up a datapad, "Is this." He handed the datapad over to Vreegan, which showed a list of valuables inside the headquarters. Credits in vaults, stores of carbonite, locations of secret holdings, and materials spread throughout this sector and beyond. Vast amounts of wealth this mining guild had and their exact locations in the galaxy.

"Getting any of this off-world is going to be difficult, but with the battle in orbit, it gives us a chance. If we can escape, it could also provide us with further targets for resources for the Crusade."

The Lord of Hunger

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Brent Warnel

The Field Marshal was confident that the Great Crusade would emerge victorious over Ithor and Selnesh, which led him to disengage from the fierce combat upon receiving news via the holonet that the Foundation was launching an offensive against the Dark Empire in the Core Worlds.

The Galactic Alliance was unable to reclaim Tython from a diminished Empire. Therefore, there were some reservations regarding their ability to achieve any meaningful results though there was always a way to exploit the crisis for their own gain.

He offered an open ear as the leader of the local rebel cell delivered a fervent address regarding the overthrow of the tyrannical empire.

"Indeed they will not but they will serve as a potent distraction" A faint yet discreet smile appeared beneath his helmet as Brent Warnel signaled for him to look at the datapad he was holding, which outlined the Mining Guild Headquarters and the substantial rewards contained within.

"You concern yourself with trinkets and material wealth for the Great Crusade, vode Warnel. But one has to take into consideration that the Mining Guild Headquarters is going to be a highly contested area with a higher chance of failure. We would be walking straight into the rancor's den in a blind haze with nothing to show for it." Vreegan offered a slight reprimand, taking the datapad from Warnel's grasp and inputting the coordinates for the nearby Hyperspace Navigator's Guildhouse.

This location could potentially reveal Imperial Hyperspace Routes and concealed sub-sectors unknown to the Galactic Alliance, enabling the Neo-Crusaders to conduct raids across the neutral zone and the Alliance Occupation once they reclaim the planets.

​

 

[Corin Trenor]

The years ticked on.

His mission to find Dagon failed, spiraled, and sent him elsewhere on a road unseen. Denon was abandoned to a different fate that one Corin might have wanted for it, so that it could survive and later thrive beyond his watchful eye and sense of justice. He was but a lingering parasite of an older, different method - clinging and clawing at once what was would be to the benefit of no one, and so Corin turned his attention on a new journey.

He remembered his friends fondly, if Corin could even claim them as friends anymore. Some had risen so high as to seat themselves on the Jedi Council. It would so easy to return to the Jedi Temple, to be comfortable alongside them all. To laugh, smile and cheer. But, that wasn't his path. For the longest time, he wasn't sure what it was. With the rise of darkness in the core, Corin could at least try to find it there.

On Tython now, Corin wandered through the dense forests towards an Imperial encampment.

Serina Calis

 

[Suhara Villow]

ALLIES: Zev Tantor | Suhara Villow | Evest Neel | Elsabetta Perris | Bido Roz’lyn | Trent Perris | Cuan Kunn | Daraho Arvyd | Len Vert | Zyra | TF
ENEMIES: Marlon Sularen | Max Sinn | DE
ENGAGING: Marlon Sularen

"Supreme Commander! Exiting hyperspace in one minute!"

I've got to get them to stop calling me that - Suhara Villow silently pondered - for grief's sake, Pierre outranks me by three orders of magnitude.

"Maintain the fleet line. I want every single ship ready to light their sub-light drives to full the moment we deploy in formation," she ordered as she paced up and down the bridge of the Saint Nivéaurore, a Jaune-Class Battlecruiser. It wasn't built for slugging line battles, but it would be more than capable enough to chew up anything that matched its displacement and less before spitting out the rinds. Perfect for the role that her fleet had chosen to fulfil for the coming battle, "Have the engine troubles on Téméraire been fixed yet?"

"Yes, ma'am," the ensign responded. "It's been restored to full functionality."

"If it starts getting battered around, will it keep said functionality?" Pierre, Suhara's Second-in-Command, spoke at her side. He was a man twice her age with a receding hairline and a handlebar mustache that twirled at the ages. "We don't need it to start lagging between the line the moment it takes a glancing hit."

"Captain Brosseau is certain that the repairs will hold."

"Brosseau's bunch is solid. They've earned the right to be certain," Suhara muttered. She wasn't the most senior naval commander in the fleet - having only been commanding the Frigate Soulèvement before the revolution - and technically, the Saint Nivéaurore was Pierre's ship. But she had been restless in her efforts to examine the crew of every ship in her fleet. She knew their capabilities and weaknesses as deeply as she did a lover's body. "The Téméraire will be vaporized before their engines fail."

Pierre nodded. "We're coming out of hyperspace."

Suhara turned back to the bridge's viewport. The stars snapped into place like shards of shattered glass as the Saint Nivéaurore tore free from hyperspace. Her breath slightly hitched as she caught sight of the Imperial Flagship, the Purifier. It was a goddamned monster. From scanner readings flooding in, that Resurrection-Class Battle Cruiser alone displaced the combined Chantemerian and Foundation Fleets. Not to mention its escorts: two Despot Star Destroyers and a single Valiant Class.

Yet, despite the odds stacked against them, not a single member of the crew voiced hesitation. Centuries of Chantemerian naval traditions combined with their partisan spirit had steeled them through worse odds. Their forefathers had spat in the face of the monsters that came crawling out of the four-hundred-year void and sent them yelping back into the dark chaos.

The Chantemerian fleet had already begun to assume battle formations. The exhausting days in Hyperspace rushing towards this new theater didn't seem to show as their ceaseless drills in the months beforehand allowed them to perform complex maneuvers without a single mistake. The Saint Nivéaurore formed the center of the line while the four Azur-Class guarded the flagships bow and stern in pairs. The three Sarcelle-Class Missile cruisers moved to its side flanks.

"Incoming message. From Kalah Redra." Suhara noticed that the ensign had refused to use the Grand Admiral's title. She made a silent mental note to bring it up later. A lot of her men seemed to shun any higher authority than hers.

"Bring it up."

The holographic image of Redra appeared in the bridge's central projector. Suhara listened closely to the Admiral's suggestions.

"Understood. I'll keep my force away from that beast of an Imperial Flagship. We don't have the shields or armor to withstand more than a few salvos. But I don't intend to allow them to dictate the battle for the flanks. That Valiant-Class Cruiser of theirs is prime prey. Intelligence your superiors have forwarded to my analysts tell me that it's weak in firepower when it comes to its rear. With my Battlecruiser's speed and Frigate's maneuverability, it'll be an easy kill. I'll see if I can draw it out of formation by sending the Abeille to support Danger Squadron. With the Sarcelle-Class's anti-starfighter battery, those TIEs will be made mincemeat of."

In the corner of her high, she watched Abeille leave the line formation and begin her journey to join the fleet of transports thundering towards the planet below. The Missilecruiser's engines allowed it to accelerate forward like it had been kicked by a giant boot. One hundred and fifty barrels of Hel began to warm up as the corvette's central firing computer began to slave multiple turrets onto single Imperial starfighters. Targeting solutions were being made to put up walls of impassible flak fire to block likely attack vectors on the transports. Interdiction missiles were primed to create bubbles of interdictor fields to slow down any enemy fighter that passed through them. When it came to anti-starfighter duty, there was little in the Galaxy that could match a well-trained Sarcelle-Class.

"Give them a choice: send a capital ship to remove Abeille or be forced to give up their chance to destroy our transports. In the meantime, my fleet is ready to light their engines the moment a single one of them dares to make a mistake."

The floor below Suhara trembled; the magnificent sub-light Ion Engines the battlecruiser had been built around were now at full power, causing the ship to purr like a feline ready to strike.

Spoiler: fleet

• 1x Jaune-Class Battlecruiser (750m)
  • Saint Nivéaurore
• 4x Azur-Class Heavy Frigates (350m)
  • Bourrasque
  • Audace
  • Téméraire
  • Soulèvement
• 3x Sarcelle-Class Missilecruiser (200m)
  • Abeille
  • Piquer
  • Poignarder

Spoiler: Action Report

• The Chantermerian Fleet emerges from hyperspace on the fleet's flank
• Suhara intends to poke and prod at the Imperial flank, her fleet ready to pounce on a single ship that moves out of formation.
• Suhara deploys the Sarcelle-Class Missilecruiser Abeille to defend the transports and support Danger Squadron against the incoming TIEs

 

[Fervos Kej]

Empress Teta was quite the grand departure from the jungles of his homeworld, but still there was the tyranny of an Empire. Togorians were warriors bred, and as such were often sought out as soldiers. As such, Fervos had become an asset to The Foundation, who he had heard were looking for a man such as him. The massive felinid was sitting in back of a cargo speeder, speeding down the way to their agreed upon meeting point. It would be his first mission, and he was not keen to screw it up.

His objective? To rally the freedom fighters, arm them, and lead them to victory against the Dark Empire. It was a grand task, but one that he had undertaken before. In his time as a guerilla fighter fighting against Hutt slavers, he learned well how to arm the mobs and lead them in battle, turning ordinary men and women into soldiers.

"We are here, it is time to make ourselves known," Fervos said, standing hunched over in back of the speeder. "To arms! Today we fight to secure the future of this world!"

His words rang out to the people gathered in the street, emboldening the people around him. Having such a massive warrior on one's side did tend to add some credibility to the idea of a resistance. As a show of good will, Fervos would personally hand out weapons to the gathered crowd, tossing them rifles as well as several kinds of explosives.

It was clear that these men and women were not trained fighters, they were good-hearted folk just trying their best. That was going to have to do today, against the tyrannical forces of the Dark Empire, any blow they could land would be a boon. What remained to be seen was just how many martyrs would be required...

"Spirits be with these fighters, that they all return home to their families..."